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by phoenixwings



Category: Gilmore Girls, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Dean, Crossover Pairing, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Homophobia, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Stars Hollow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 18:09:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2742077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eleven months ago, Dean moved to Stars Hollow and started working as a mechanic.<br/>Ten months ago, Luke had come into Gypsy's garage with his truck and Dean had talked to him for the first time.<br/>Eight months ago, Dean had started watching every baseball game in the apartment above the diner and Luke stopped charging him for coffee.<br/>Six months ago, Dean realized the town grump was his best friend.<br/>One month ago, Dean realized his feelings went deeper than that. </p>
<p>In which Dean and Luke share a chick-flick moment, Gypsy is an awesome boss, and the citizens of Stars Hollow are both infuriating and endearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for some homophobic language from Taylor. Takes place in a Stars Hollow AU in which Luke & Lorelei never dated and have only ever been friends.
> 
> I can also be found on [Tumblr](http://burningphoenixwings.tumblr.com/).

It happened at the Firelight Festival, of all the cheesy places. 

 

Eleven months into Dean’s time in Stars Hollow and he could easily say this was the most sentimental festival the town had put on so far. Dean had thought the dance marathon had been bad, but _nothing_ compared to this. It was all about secret meetings between lovers and undying declarations of romance. Dean had heard Miss Patty tell the same story three times in the past week.  

 

Dean would have waited out the festival in his house, but he didn’t want to be alone in his thoughts, and everyone else in town was celebrating in the town square. Also, Miss Patty’s Founder’s Day Punch would be free and in abundance. Normally, Dean would reject spiked punch in favor of an actual drink, like whiskey, but thanks to an unfortunate occurrence involving shirtless karaoke that had gone down at the summer kick-off, Dean could actually attest to just how potent Patty’s punch was, and Dean needed potent. 

 

Eleven months ago, Dean had settled in Stars Hallow. He’d ended up here by chance. He’d needed to get away from Kansas after his dad’s death. With Sam off at Stanford, there wasn’t much holding him down to Lawrence and Dean knew if he stayed he’d end up going down the same path his dad had—drunk and alone. So he’d enlisted Bobby’s help, who had reached out to some contacts and had found Dean a job at Gypsy's garage. Dean had packed up everything in the Impala, drove all the way to Stars Hollow, and rented a house without a second thought. 

 

Ten months ago, Luke Danes had come into the garage with his truck. Dean had known Luke, of course—the guy had the best coffee, burgers, and pie in town, the perfect trifecta. Dean had never really talked to the other man, though, until he popped open the hood of the truck and started working on it. As it happened, while Dean was elbows-deep in the guy’s truck, they had got on the subject of baseball, then sports in general, then fishing. The conversation flowed easily and Dean had ended up working an extra hour and a half that day without even realizing it.  


 

Eight months ago, Dean had started watching every baseball game in the apartment above the diner and Luke stopped charging him for coffee. 

 

Six months ago Dean realized the town grump had become his best friend. 

 

Four months ago they went on a camping trip and Dean was hit with the fact that he was ridiculously attracted to Luke. They’d woken up early in the tent, and Luke had rolled over onto his side. It had been warm, so the air around them was damp and sticky. Luke had been wearing a T-shirt, but it had been large and had slipped off his shoulders in the night, giving Dean the perfect view of Luke’s clavicle and Dean realized for the first time he longed to reach out and touch Luke’s skin. 

 

A month ago they had both taken a Saturday off and hung out in Dean’s garage. Dean had worked on the Impala while Luke worked on his father’s boat. When Dean was finished with baby, he offered to help Luke with the boat. They had done this a couple of times before and Dean always offered, but that was the first time Luke let him help. Afterwards, when Dean's arms were smeared with engine grease and they both were covered in sawdust, Luke brought back two slices of pie from the diner and they cracked open some beers and sat at Dean’s kitchen table. When the plates were clean Luke grabbed a blank sheet of paper and started marking down ideas on how he wanted to finish the boat and he asked for Dean’s suggestions. They stayed like that until almost midnight, and when Luke left that day Dean realized that he was in way deeper than simply being attracted to his friend. 

 

He was so screwed. 

 

Since then, every day when Dean had gone in for his morning coffee he felt like he was jumping out of his skin. Luke was grumpy and stiff—not the real caring n’ sharing type, which was why they had gotten along so well. Dean didn’t know how Luke would react to the truth if Dean tried to tell him. He knew that Luke didn’t have any problems with his sexuality, since Dean had mentioned both Lisa and Aaron and a few other exes at some point.The first time Dean had mentioned a male ex, Luke had just taken it in stride and told him Stars Hollow was a pretty accepting town, except for probably Taylor, and maybe Mrs. Kim. But Taylor had moral problems with teenagers skateboarding or people working on the sabbath(though he kept his stores open), and Mrs. Kim thought fast food was of the devil, so Dean didn’t take it too personally. Despite all that, Dean was still nervous to how Luke might respond if it became more personal.  

 

So yeah, Dean was going to drown his sorrow in neon punch. Sue him. 

 

Dean sat on one the park benches in the town square, surrounded by sparkling white Christmas lights when Luke sat down next to him. Dean tensed—he was tipsy, deep into his second cup of bunch, but not nearly drunk enough for this. 

 

On second thought, Dean decided he didn’t really want to be drunk around Luke. His mouth might run away from him, and he might be dumb and blurt out things he meant. 

 

Luke shifted beside him and took a long swig of his own cup of punch. 

 

“Dude,” Dean said by way of greeting.  “You’re drinking Patty’s punch? You always warn people about it liquifying their insides.” 

 

Luke finished his cup in a single swallow. 

 

“Thought I could use some liquid courage,” Luke replied. 

 

Dean furrowed his brow. 

 

“Courage for what?” he asked. Luke leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. On instinct, Dean mirrored his movements. 

 

“Courage for this,” Luke said, moving closer to Dean and then Dean let out a small yelp because Luke’s mouth was on his. 

 

Luke Danes—grumpy, flannel-wearing, baseball-loving, softie-at-heart Luke Danes—was kissing him, quick but passionate. Dean could taste a hint of peach from the punch and could smell a hint of alcohol, but Luke was clearly not drunk, which meant he was kissing Dean on purpose.  

 

Dean was too surprised to do anything but sit there stock-still. 

 

Then, almost as quickly as it had begun, Luke pulled away and hung his head. 

 

“Sorry,” He said. “I should’ve. . . I mean just because you like men doesn’t mean you’d like me. . . Forget that ever happened. Better that way. Break-ups are messy and then I’d watch baseball alone again, so. . . Friends are better.” 

 

“No!” Dean blurted out before he had time to think. He just wanted Luke to stop talking. Luke’s face fell. 

 

“No, I mean not friends,” Dean tried to clarify, but the words he wanted to say seemed to have completely vanished from his mind. 

 

“Just. . . Ah, to hell with it,” Dean said, and decided it was time to go for broke. He surged forward, cradling Luke’s head with one hand and cupping his jaw in the other. Before he had time to think, he found Luke’s mouth with his own, slow and deliberate in his movements, and it took a few seconds but then Luke was responding in kind. 

 

They kept it fairly chaste, if long, but Dean panted a little as they broke. 

 

“I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Luke admitted. Dean shrugged, placing his still half-full cup on the bench beside him. 

 

“I don’t either, man.” 

 

“But you’ve. . . You’ve dated guys before.” 

 

“Not with the whole town watching. Not like this,” Dean admitted, his face flushing. 

 

“So. . . Figure it out as we go?”

 

“Yeah,” Dean said, nodding. “That sounds good.” 

 

Luke smiled at him. 

 

“Good,” Luke agreed. Dean smiled back before looked up and out across the town square. People had started gathering by the bonfire which had finally been lit. Dean groaned. 

 

“Dude,” Dean said, “We just hooked up at the Firelight Festival. We’re never gonna hear the end of this. Miss Patty’ll be telling this story for years.” 

 

Luke just barked out a laugh. 

 

 

* * *

As Dean had predicted, the Luke/Dean kiss was talk of the town Monday morning. He had expected the stares, but he stumbled a little under the gaze of dozens of eyes all the same. Dean walked up the counter and decided on the stool furthest from the cash register and closest to the stairway that led upstairs to Luke’s apartment. Better for making a quick getaway if needed, Dean decided. 

 

 

Luke waved at Dean when he walked in before rushing back to the kitchen with a plateful of eggs to yell at Caesar for yet another mistake. From his seat Dean heard Luke tell Caesar that he couldn’t decide to just cook customer’s eggs differently because he thought they were better. Dean snorted. Once Caesar had conceded the point, Luke walked out of the kitchen and strolled over to Dean, handing over a coffee in a Styrofoam to-go cup. 

 

“They still starin’?” Dean asked. Luke’s eyes swept across the diner. 

 

“Yeah, they’re still staring,” Luke confirmed. 

 

“They waiting for us to make out or something?” Dean joked. “We could give them a show.” 

 

Luke’s hand froze halfway to where he had been about to deposit a refill of sugar packets into the sweetener bowl. Dean would’ve laughed if Luke hadn’t looked so terrified, like he had just been informed that wearing baseball caps backwards was now a criminal offense. 

 

“Dude, I’m joking,” Dean said with an easy chuckle. “It’s cool, we’re taking it slow.” 

 

“Right,” Luke nodded, some of the tension easing out of shoulders. 

 

“How do they all know so fast, anyway? What, was it lead story in the papers or something?” Dean asked. Kirk, who was one stool over from Dean, turned towards them. 

 

“Actually it was,” Kirk said, pushing over the Monday morning paper. “In the feature story. An interesting choice of picture, considering the subjects and the festival. Luke, you might want to do something about that coloring on your neck. I can recommend a good dermatologist.” 

 

“What?” Luke exclaimed, his face heating with color. 

 

“It’s not a big deal, Luke. Plenty of men need skincare help at some point in their. . .”

 

“Not that, Kirk,” Luke replied, exasperated. “Go back to your breakfast or I’ll kick you out.” 

 

Kirk grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “laws” and “Taylor”, but he turned back to his french toast and Dean decided to ignore him. He grabbed the newspaper Kirk had slid across the counter and opened it to the center page. There was a long feature on the Firelight festival. There were three photos accompanying the story. One was Babette and Morey in front of the bonfire, then one of two high schoolers Dean didn’t recognize holding hands. The last picture, front and center, was a picture of Dean and Luke kissing. 

 

“Oh my God,” Dean groaned. “What the hell, man? What’d they do, sneak in a hidden camera?” 

 

He didn’t even know how they had managed it. Neither kiss had lasted longer than a few seconds. Dean wondered briefly if Taylor had installed those hidden cameras he had been talking about placing throughout town a few months ago. 

 

“No wonder everyone’s staring,” Luke remarked. He turned towards the front of the diner. 

 

“Excuse me!” He called out. “New diner policy! Along with cell phones, all issues of the Stars Hallow Gazette are banned. Anyone seen with a copy will not be served in my establishment. That goes for you too, Kirk.” 

 

Luke turned back towards Dean,who just raised an eyebrow.

 

“Little excessive, don’t you think?” He asked. 

 

“No,” Luke shook his head and thumped his fist on the counter. “This is my diners. No newspapers.” 

 

“Alright, then.” Dean craned his neck slightly to look at the tables behind him, and noticed that while some people had stopped staring and had started eating,at least half the diner-goers kept casting looks over towards the counter where he was sitting.Subtlety had never been the town's strong point. Dean rolled his eyes.  


 

“Want some breakfast?” Luke asked as he balled up the newspaper and threw it at Kirk’s head. Dean checked his watch. 

 

“Nah, I better get going,” He said, standing and grabbing his coffee. 

 

“See you tonight, then?” Luke asked. 

 

“Yeah,” Dean grinned. “Tonight.” 

 

Dean winked at the table of gossiping ladies as he left, letting them know he knew exactly what they were talking about. Let them talk, or put pictures in the newspaper, or whatever strange things this weird-ass town would think of next—Dean was too happy to care. 

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Gypsy said as she handed him a clipboard, “Talk of the town is that you and Luke played some tonsil hockey at the Firelight Festival.” 

 

“Really, Gypsy?” Dean responded. “Inventory? And it was hardly tonsil hockey.” 

 

“Aha,” Gypsy punched his shoulder, “So there was kissing.” 

 

“Yes, Gypsy, there was kissing,” Dean sighed. “Now why am I doing inventory instead of looking at a car?” 

 

“Hey, it’s just you and me here, and someone’s gotta do it. If I had a car I’d give it to you, but we don’t. Might as well be useful. I’m not having a walk in the park either, you know. I’ve got to look at our invoices.” 

 

“Fine,” Dean grumbled before downing the rest of his coffee. He grabbed a pen from the work station and headed off to get busy counting the long, long list of things Gypsy insisted he count and organize and label. His good mood from the morning dissipated. He yearned for the days when he thought being a mechanic meant avoiding tasks like this.  


 

“Hey,” Gypsy called as he started walking towards the back of the garage. Dean turned around. 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

Gypsy’s face softened a little. “Anyone gives you any trouble, just send them my way. I work on everyone’s car in this town. They don’t want to get on my bad side, if you know what I mean.” 

 

Dean snorted. “Thanks, Gypsy, but I can take care of myself.” 

 

Gypsy narrowed her eyes. “Sure, you can. But you’re not from here, okay? Send them to me.” 

 

Dean knew he was perfectly capable of standing up for himself, but something in Gypsy’s words sparked a thought in Dean. Stars Hollow was a town that took care of their own. In the last year, most of the town had been nothing but welcoming, but he was still an outsider, and he knew it. Eventually, maybe, he’d be considered a local, but he wasn’t yet.Until then, he was dependent upon the locals for their support.  


 

“Tell you what, Gypsy. If anyone gives me trouble, you an’ me can tackle them together. We could kick anyone’s ass.” 

 

“Hell yeah we would,” Gypsy agreed. “Now get to work.” 

 

“Going, going,” Dean replied, but he smiled at his boss. Gypsy scowled back at him. He didn’t expect the town to give him too much trouble, really, but it was good to know that somebody had his back. 

 

* * *

 

 

Dean should have expected it, but out of all the harebrained things the townspeople were able to come up with(and by “townspeople” Dean mainly meant Taylor Doose), Dean never actually expected his relationship to come up at a town meeting, of all things. 

 

He wasn’t even suppose to be at this meeting, for God’s sake. Gypsy had sent him because she was home sick with the flu, and she had expressed in no uncertain terms that she expected Dean to go the meeting on behalf of the garage. While Dean was normally willing to smile and play the part of good town citizen, the meetings were a bit too Kumbaya for him. He was here only by sheer chance, and Taylor was up there talking about his relationship—which was new and fragile enough without the input of the town, thank you very much—like he wasn’t even present in the room. 

 

“Taylor, you can’t talk about this,” Someone—Andrew, Dean thought-- called out from the back of the dance studio. “Do you really want the news knowing that we held a town meeting to discuss this? They’ll call the town homophobic for sure. It’s bad for publicity.” 

 

Dean snorted into the contraband coffee he had smuggled in. If there was one way to get Taylor to reconsider something, talking about publicity and tourism would do the trick. Taylor kept yammering though, and Dean was pretty sure he was having some sort of out-of-body experience, because all he wanted to do was stand up and storm out or shout at the podium, but something kept him glued to his seat. His body had stopped cooperating with his brain. Luke seemed to have a similar reaction a few rows from the back, if the shocked expression that was glued to his face was anything to go by. 

 

“All I’m saying is that we need to think of the kind of example this relationship would set for the children,” Taylor explained with a wave of his hand. Dean fought the urge to toss his scalding hot coffee at him. There was an outcry from the audience at Taylor’s words, and it made Dean feel a bit better that most of the town seemed to be siding against Taylor on this, though it didn’t cool Dean’s anger. In Kansas he would have expected something, but this was  Connecticut. 

 

And since when did relationships become matters of public opinion, anyway? Dean would date whoever he damn well pleased. It’s not like it was going to affect the rest of the town. Taylor was a sad man whose greatest joy in life came from controlling the townspeople and trying to choreograph them like puppets on strings. Well, Dean wasn’t going to be one of them. Dean’s body finally caught up with his brain and he stood to his feet. He didn’t throw his coffee, like he was so tempted to do, but he did level Taylor with an even glare. 

 

“Listen Taylor, because I’m only gonna say this once. I’m gonna date who I want, and you can’t stop me, and neither can anyone else in this town. So you can discuss what this means for the kids and how it’ll offend the grandmas all you want, but at the end of the day you can’t do a single thing about it. I suggest you don’t try.” 

 

Dean didn’t bother waiting for Taylor’s reply, opting instead to walk outside into the cool night air. The slight breeze ruffled Dean’s hair and it cooled some of his still-bubbling heat from his anger. He heard some more yelling from inside, and could make out the sound of Luke’s voice, but not the words.  


 

Dean heard the door open and turned around, expecting to see Luke, but Babette stepped out. Dean winced. Dean liked Babette just fine.Babette's a nice woman, but she talked too much and had a . . . well, unique perspective on the world.  


 

“Oh sugar,” Babette started, which is another thing that rankles Dean but he let it slide. “Don’t let Taylor get you down. He’ll forget about this soon enough, just you wait and see. Next week he’ll be talking about what Christmas decorations we should use for the gazebo. And if it makes you feel better, you should ask Luke about the time he threw a frying pan at Taylor’s head. At his head!” 

 

Dean actually did chuckle at that. 

 

“ ‘Night Babette,” He said fondly. 

 

“Goodnight sugar,” She replied. So Babette may not be that bad, but Dean decides right there he’s really gonna have to work on getting her to stop that. 

 

Dean heard the bang of the gavel that signifies the end of the town meeting from inside. People started pouring out of the studio. Dean leaned back against the wall, content to not be noticed. He knew that most of the townspeople stood up to Taylor and would probably only say encouraging things, but he wasn't in the mood to hear them.  


 

Dean spotted the outline of Luke’s baseball cap and pushed himself off the wall, walking over to the other man. 

 

“Hey,” Dean said quietly.

 

“Oh, hey,” Luke stopped on the sidewalk. He looks at a point past Dean and Dean is suddenly gripped with the overwhelming fear that this might all be too much for Luke. 

 

“So. . . Babette tells me you once threw a frying pan at Taylor’s head,” Dean brought up, mainly just to say something. 

 

“Ah yeah, well, he was being, you know, Taylor,” Luke said as he finally made eye contact. 

 

“A common reaction,” Dean deadpanned. 

 

“If I had a frying pan with me tonight, there probably would have been a repeated performance.” 

 

“I’m sorry you didn’t,” Dean replied to that, because it sounds much more effective than his idea of throwing coffee at Taylor, and Dean would have really loved to see that. “Guy’s a dick. Did it hit him?” 

 

“What?” 

 

“The frying pan. Did it hit Taylor?” 

 

Luke shook his head. “Nah. I didn’t really want to be arrested for assault.” 

 

Dean nodded at the ground and scuffed his boot against the worn sidewalk where there's a clump of grass growing through a crack.  


 

“So how’d it end in there?” Dean asked finally.

 

“Oh, the usual. Taylor said something dumb, everyone disagreed with it, I yelled a little. . . It won’t happen again.” 

 

“You sure?” 

 

Luke nodded, then cleared his throat. 

 

“So uh, I still got half a cherry pie back at the diner. Want some?” 

 

“Dude, it’s pie,” Dean said with a grin, “Do you even have to ask?” 

 

Inside the diner, Luke handed him a piece of cherry pie and Dean talked about his work at the garage. Soon, the leftover nerves from the town meeting have been forgotten by both of them. Dean paused at one point with half a forkful of delicious pie crust to his mouth and he’s hit with the realization that so much feels the same, but something has fundamentally shifted. He still’s hanging out with his best friend in town, but now when he gets the urge to reach over and brush a hand over the other man’s shoulders as he tells a funny story, he can. And when the pie’s all gone, they cleaned up the plates together and while Luke was elbow-deep in soapy water Dean kissed him, and then flicked warm water at Luke just to keep the moment from feeling too sappy. Luke didn’t laugh, exactly, but he quirked his mouth up and the skin around his eyes crinkled and it filled up something deep within in Dean.

 

Home, Dean realized. He feels at home, annoying town selectman and all. Eleven months ago Dean moved to this quirky town, befriended the owner of the town’s best diner, doing something for _himself_ for once in the process, and found a home. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I never thought I'd ever want to see Luke with anyone other than Lorelei, but the idea for this crossover pairing got in my head & wouldn't let go. Dean & Luke are so similar in some ways, but also vastly different. I think they'd be good for each other, at least in this alternate universe.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Touching Down in Stars Hollow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4388021) by [starlightoffandoms (destinyofdreams)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destinyofdreams/pseuds/starlightoffandoms)




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